By the look on aunt’s face, you would think the wedding was hers and not Alex’s. Heaven stands besides the pew closest to the altar, chin high and cheeks ablaze. Odin beside me is slightly flushed too, but nerves are different than the ego boost that comes with getting your way.

My voice sounds shaky against my best efforts. “Are you okay?” He fixes his tie, green eyes darting everywhere. Big, thick fingers fumble with the knot. “Don’t asphyxiate yourself,” I warn. If I’m being honest, he looks a bit sick. Purple isn’t a color meant for a soldier’s face.

The church is crowded. People from the media, commoners, guards, royals, and nobles. Even the council decided to come. Everyone is here to watch my sister get married and a general become king. I’d think he’d be more excited, which is why it’s surprising to see his frame hunched, his hands shaking on his collar.

“This isn’t going the way I planned,” is all he allows, giving up with the tie, his mother next to him fixing the crooked angle. Her touch is light even if her son dwarfs her dainty figure.

“So you’re scared? Or are you having regrets? I could tell Alex to call off the wedding if you’d like,” I tease, smirking.

He returns the same rueful smile, his tie finally in place. “I’m more scared of her than I am of the rebels.” His mother beside him finds it in her to smile begrudgingly. There’s something about her I don’t like. She seems innocent, conniving. Which means she’s not.

I shift my weight. The irony of the wedding and the circumstances surrounding it is astounding. “Bet you didn’t see that one coming. Life has a weird way of working out.”

He echoes my sentiment. “I didn’t think I’d ever become a king. I guess you didn’t think I’d become one, either.”

“Dad wanted you since he first met you,” I say, standing up from the big yet uncomfortable couch in the waiting room right next to the common room of the church. Speaking of father gives me something to look forward to. In some ways, this wedding is everything he wanted for Alexandra. If he had no doubt in Odin, neither should I.

Odin rolls his thunderous shoulders. “He told me so himself, but I never thought Alex would end up marrying me.”

I shrug. “Guess you’re just lucky then.”

The mockery and wonder in his voice are gone, his hands on his sides suddenly steady as he holds my gaze. “That I am.”

I respond in kind, fixing him a stern glance. “And if you dare to hurt her, you’ll have me to worry about.”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Believe me, she knows how to guard her back. A little stubborn, she is.”

Understatement of the year.

The people behind us are the main ‘actors’ of the wedding. Because that’s almost what this is. A play the country will watch to entertain themselves and calm the boredom capable of sparking an almost-revolution while we play along hoping they’ll buy the whole thing. Chloesa’s family, the council, and Alexandra’s maids in waiting are all here. Everyone who matters for Alex is behind, almost as if we were backstage about to perform a show.

Everyone but Greece. And Logan.

Logan, I understand. Watching the woman you love married off to someone who wasn’t here months ago must be a big hit. But Greece, Alexa’s best friend, she had to be here. Show Alexandra her support, be the crutch she needed.

Alexa isn’t here. She’s the bride, and she swore she needed a couple of minutes by herself to gain back her composure. I left her in the chapel as she whispered a greeting to our parents’ boxes. She’s not the same girl I spoke to when the bird in my chamber appeared.

She’s grown, matured, lived and died.

She’s not my Alex anymore.

“Where’s Greece?” I ask, hoping he’ll tell me she’s with Alex or out on the pews.

I get a shrug from Odin, his eyes scanning the crowd. Worry furrows his brows. “Don’t know. Alex isn’t late now, is she?”

“She won’t stand you up,” I assure him.

He huffs. “She’s been paranoid ever since she spoke with the seer.”

I knew. Father and she had the idea of visiting one of those women who read the future, somehow granting you a chance to change things. Even if it is a ruse to get your money, I don’t blame Alex. If I were her, I’d need every coping mechanism I could get to deal with the crown.

“Do you know what she told her? I mean, seriously, how accurate can the predictions be? She’s wasting gold on a woman who doesn’t—”

He cuts me off, walking closer to the table where the archbishop stands, talking to a Father. I follow him. “I don’t know the details, but it mustn’t have been something nice.”

I noticed Alexandra’s grim expression at my wedding. Paired with Bridgit’s kind visit, my sister had too much to handle in such little time. “Things like ‘the crown is a curse’ and stuff of the such?”

His face pales for a second. He clears his throat. “Is she wrong?” It is all he says before his father signals him over, Odin’s tall frame walking from one side of the room to the other to meet his father.

As he walks away, I can’t help but picture the crown on his head. How will he handle power? Will he be just, like father was? Or will he become those kinds of kings who love power more than anything? He seems genuinely attracted to Alexandra, and for both our sakes I hope it’s father’s personality the one he’ll take after.

The bell above our heads echoes a while later, its beat making the whole thing really sink. It’s a low, dull throb, reverberating in my stomach. Chloesa walks beside me, my hand on her lower back, as I lead her toward our assigned pew. I stare ahead to where Odin now stands, a serene expression on his face while he fidgets with his hands.

He cuts a handsome general. Someone to respect, to fear. In some ways, he carries the strength I used to see in father. He’s scared. I see it in his wandering eyes and pursed lips, but he won’t allow the fear to peek through for my sister’s sake.

Alexandra makes her appearance holding onto Duncan’s arm, just like father would’ve wanted. Her dress extends a couple of meters behind her. It is a delicious intricacy, something mother would be proud of. White brings out the sharpness in her electric eyes, juts her cheekbones. Her hair is pulled back with the veil in a style I’ve seen before somewhere. Her makeup, light and almost invisible, makes her eyes shine brighter underneath the chandeliers and the colored glass. It hits me then.

It’s the exact same look mother wore to her wedding.

I’ve seen pictures and tapes of that day but seeing my sister in a very similar dress with similar features makes my chest heave. The dress by itself is simple, no embroidery or details, just white satin falling but embracing her shape. Surprisingly, she doesn’t look as

young anymore. There’s joviality in her face, but it is shadowed by a deeper sense of maturity.

“She looks stunning,” Chloesa whispers beside me, catching my eyes for a second before trailing Alex’s figure down the aisle, the whole room gone quiet. The traditional song plays in the background and the soldiers closest to her at all sides are careful not to step on the tail.

Alexandra is the reincarnation of mother. It’s all I can think about. Royal and beautiful, wise and strong, and even a bit more stubborn. It’s almost my imagination, but there’s an air of power as she walks, swaying her hips gracefully, her chin out in a sign of clear defiance. This is a moment that will secure her foothold on the crown, the thing she had to do to remain alive. I’m almost glad she made the choice as quick as she did. Life was kind enough to find her a friend in Odin.

Odin smiles at her, it is all I see, the same way Lennon smiled at mother on those videos from years ago. All I can think of and pray for is they don’t share the same fate.

All too quickly, she reaches the three steps to the altar, smiling softly at Duncan as he bends over to kiss her hand, a sign of recognition. Odin walks forward, taking her hand and bringing her up the steps.

I take a deep breath. Chloesa holds my hand.

The archbishop, the same man in charge of her coronation all those days ago seems happy about the wedding, a soft smile playing with the crinkles in his eyes as he grabs hold of the bible.

“Friends and family, people of Alemiss, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of your queen, Alexandra Coltrane the first, and Odin Abernarthy, general from Lanese’s armies.” The pair turns, eyes on each other. The archbishop doesn’t need a microphone. The acoustics in the chapel is designed for events like these.

I can’t see Odin’s face, but Alexa’s expression is drawn. Maybe in thought, probably about mother. She has no real reason to be afraid. She knows Odin, probably more than I initially had guessed. She knows I wouldn’t lead her to the strange hands of a man who wouldn’t know how to handle her. Still, her eyes flicker and her hands holding Odin’s shake the slightest bit. She bites her lip.

Heaven beside me looks around the room too, as if finding out a piece of information missing. Her hushed tone and pursed lips make her look pleasantly annoyed. “Where are her friends? Greece? And... is his name Liam?”

“Logan,” I murmur back. Right. She’s looking for Logan. Heaven smiles at my lack of reply. She knows Logan’s name. Aprincess born, a queen in power, she has the names of all her enemies, and if Logan wasn’t one, he was clearly an obstacle.

An obstacle she overcame with flying colors. The wedding happening around us is enough testament to her power.

I can’t blame Alex. Letting something like that go must not be easy. I also trust her enough to know she’ll respect this marriage, even if it meant nothing to her romantically.

She cares for the country and the crown. She cares for her life and our safety.

And, a small part of her cares for the overrated general.

“This wedding is not just for the sake of love,” says the old man. “In a civilization like ours, monarchs have to exchange such luxuries for protection and alliances. Though, God willing, people find those trials difficult to endure and love sprouts along the way. We’ve seen so in kings and queens before. Our former monarchs, Bliss and Lennon Coltrane.

This wedding is for the citizens of Alemiss, and may God place a good spirit in everyone’s hearts here today.”

I zone out. I heard this just days ago at my own wedding. I stare at Alexandra’s hair, black and just as smooth as mother’s, or focus my attention on Chloesa’s arms around me. I listen to the vows. Anything to keep me away from the memories I pretend to dodge.

Odin clears his throat. His shoulders shake with emotion as he rolls them again. “Alexandra. I can’t begin to express how lucky I feel to get a chance like this. Not only of protecting and caring for your people as if they were my own, but to have a chance to support you along the way and watch you become a woman of good. A merciful queen for your country, now mine too.”

Alexa smiles. Her lips quiver. Fear flashes in her eyes. With a blink, she shakes it away. She’s one to find her way around fear.

Odin’s voice drones on. “I can assure you, you won’t face anything alone, and I’ll always have your back, taking care of the duty left behind by your ancestors and honoring our people with my last breath. In chaos like this and in serenity like before, in sickness and in health, I pledge myself to you, Alexandra Coltrane.”

Odin’s father close to him leans to say something to his wife, her eyes gleaming with something I suspect are tears. It’s so human, to show her doing something as mundane as crying. But it comes out fake. Staged. Wrong.

Alexandra’s voice steals my eyes from the woman. “I promise to let you handle matters with me, Odin Abernarthy, and I trust you will take care of my people, now your own. I will be there for you. A friend, a wife, an ally. A queen.” That’s what she is, smile gleaming for thousands of people to see. “And together we will honor and respect the legacy we are yet to build, loving one another and our people in hopes of a brighter future—the one my parents would’ve wanted—for Alemiss.” Her voice doesn’t falter. She sounds sure of herself, even stopping a couple of times to stroke Odin’s cheek. It’s not hard to understand her intentions. If people buy this, it’ll appease the masses just enough for Odin to get back the cities we’ve lost and be able to send our soldiers back to the battlefields if necessary.

Though part of her, the young, beautiful part of her I know so well hides behind those words and swift caresses. She feels something for Odin, and though it might not be love, I hope someday love blossoms from it.

The bell rings again. People cheer around me. Chloesa jumps to my arms and I find myself smiling at the view. I wish father and mother would’ve been here, but I’m sure there’s part of them with me, with us.

With Alex.

Odin signs the papers he only would’ve signed if my sister had asked him to—the coronation slips. Ink is placed on her thumb and his alike, they press it to the paper just like Chloe and I did, the bishop declaring, “Long live King Odin and Queen Alexandra.”

“You seem worried.” Her voice can break through the fog clouding my brain as easy as the sun peeks every morning from the darkness. Her green eyes shine in the fluorescent lights of the dancefloor.

I shake my head, dismissing her comment. I don’t want to worry her. I don’t even know what I’m thinking of myself. “I’m just thinking, that’s all.”

She smiles at me, touching my cheek, caressing the stubble growing there. My energy was consumed by Alex’s wedding. In past days, I rarely had the strength to drill with the soldiers or do something as simple as shaving. I couldn’t bear the thought of her doing this for a country with nothing more than vain traditions to uphold. “I can see smoke coming from your ears. What’s going on?”

Her words are why I didn’t put up any resistance to marrying her, I think to myself, she’s sensitive and knows how to make people around her feel better. She’s just what I need, a solid companion.

Like a child in the middle of a tantrum, I heave a theatrical sigh before surrendering my efforts. “I don’t know how she’ll handle this. Or even if she’s ready to.”

She hums, gripping my tight shoulders, looking up at me. “If she’s half as stubborn as you are, she’ll get through this. We got through this.”

“I’m not talking about the wedding. I’m not really worried about it,” I tell her. “But with the marriage come new strategies and an heir. As soon as possible. She’s a queen in the middle of a civil war.”

And through it all, I must keep her safe. Odin is a new addition to the plan; one I’m still testing. He cares for her. He’ll go through lengths to keep her safe. Sometimes the biggest threat she faces is herself.

Chloe smirks at me as I twirl her around, her green dress puffing around us. “Never underestimate a woman, Lucas.”

“It’s not... I mean, yes,” I say as we finish the song, her head on my shoulder. “I understand. But I—the council isn’t necessarily her number one supporter. The war’s not looking good either and the decision she made about the brides’ leader was not a good choice. Not in the eyes of the council.”

I’ve heard about the meeting all over the news, seen it in the council’s preying eyes and on Alexandra’s lingering blue pebbles. I don’t know how it went. Odin has kept the information to himself. Try as I may, I haven’t been able to get anything from him. I can only hope whatever it is, Odin knows how to calm Alexandra.

“I heard about it. What happened there? Any news? I don’t think they reached an agreement. The security here is packed,” she mutters, raising her head and staring at the guards at every corner.

“It may not have been a good move, but it isn’t a terrible move either.”

We walk back to the table, her tiny hand reaching out for a glass of champagne. She knows of diplomacy as much as I do, but even with the knowledge, these are times where tests are hardly foreseen.

I stroke her hand lightly. “I forgot you’re a neutral, too.”

She takes a big gulp, her throat bobbing up and down before she smiles at me, her lips a deeper shade of red. “No, I’m not. I’m with the decrees. Of course, my opinion doesn’t matter since I’ll never be a queen but...”

I don’t know what I expected from her, but the words gush from her mouth and my eyes

widen in disbelief. I stare at her for a moment once we take a seat. “But—but you’re a woman.” Mother was against the decrees. Alexandra, Greece, their maids. Everyone I know. Even me.

“Yes, but we need the decrees to establish order and to...”

She trails off, bowing her head. I pick her chin up with my index finger, staring at her. I force her to continue. I need to listen to her thoughts; see how she thinks. She’s the strongest ally I’ll get here. “Yes?”

Shaking her head, her auburn hair leaving behind a sweet smell, she pushes my hand away softly, taking another sip at the glass. “And nothing. That’s it. My family is neutral—verbally. We fully support the measures. It helps keep the monarchies stable.”

But I know her better. Her eyes flicker with guilt, and I take her hand resting on the table. “There’s something you aren’t telling me, darling.”

She coughs, surprised by my manners. I share her way my trademark smile, hoping she’ll trust me. She knows she can trust me. It doesn’t work, I realize with shock. Am I losing my charm? “I’ll tell you later. Now’s not the time. It’s your sister’s wedding.”

“Chloe—” I push. Her gaze turns back to me, her eyes glossy. I backtrack, easing my prodding. Whatever it is, it’s important enough to hurt her, so I decide to wait.

“Lucas, please not now.”

I nod, swallowing my words and pulling her in for a hug, resting my chin on her head. The music stops and the peculiar sound of a knife against glass shatters the comfortable silence, followed by a few murmurs. From the private table beside the dance floor, Odin stands up, eyes alert and shoulders stiff.

Alexa’s missing from his side.

He smiles ruefully though, shy once the crowd notices the queen isn’t there. “Alex—um, your queen had to leave to fix her corset, but we’re almost done for the night, so I wanted to thank all of you on her behalf, for coming here to celebrate our wedding...” His words trail off as I begin to think the possibilities, the hidden meaning behind his words and uncomfortable stance.

She would never skip something important unless she felt sick or something was missing.

Someone.

From one moment to another, I am pushing Chloesa away softly, excusing myself to the bathroom and walking fast towards the exit. Once I reach the hallways, I start running. Wherever she is, this must be starting to wear on her. I go to the floor of her chambers. Nothing. The garden looks empty. I ask the guards in a couple of hallways. They all shake their heads. It seems to me they’re not doing their job of monitoring the castle. Finally, a bulb lights up in my head and I run the opposite direction, to the noblemen floor.

I stop at the sight of her on the floor, her head bowed, something on her lap. I reach her slowly, willing my shoes not to make any noise, though I doubt she even notices at all. She doesn’t move, her legs crossed and her hair spilling forward, the dress around her like a rag doll.

Bending down, I touch her shoulder lightly. She jumps at my touch. Her face is serene, almost void, and I find myself asking her if she’s okay, but she doesn’t reply, her gaze returning to her lap once again.

In it, a piece of leather lies. I take her cold hand in mine, asking her for silent permission to read whatever it is. She raises her head, nodding to me, blue eyes gone cold. I take it from her thin fingers, frozen hands, kneeling in front of her.

When the words finally begin to make sense in my brain, I drop the note, laying it on the cold marble floor, and look at her. She’s already looking, refusing to speak.

All I can say is her name, taking her head on my hands and pushing her to my chest, embracing her in an attempt to keep her whole and alive, bring back the spark in her eyes they’ve taken from her.

She doesn’t cry, just wraps her arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I inhale her familiar scent, so much like mother’s, and we stay like that for a couple of minutes.

Maybe more.

Time doesn’t matter when Alexandra is hurt.

They have used her emotions, not against the country, but against the alliance.

How will Odin react?

_________

EEEEEEK im so excited! writing from other points of views proved to be super fun so expect more of that. let me know what you think! (this is the second book of my previous novel, bride war. i have it all uploaded to my profile, too, so check it out)!

thank you so much for reading!

-goldenmel

I find myself standing up. The strength I draw from Lucas is enough to move my weak legs, make me breathe when I’d rather not. His hand never leaves my back, and once I’m upright, I release a gulp of air stuck in my lungs. I clutch at his hand, desperate to keep a hold on him.

“I’ll be okay, right?” It doesn’t sound like a question, but it is. I wish I could cry. I’m so worn out I can’t gather enough strength to shed the tears I know must be there. I hope I don’t shed them once I’m with Odin.

Odin.

The thought of his name splashes my face, waking me up, piercing my lungs. I stare at Lucas, already staring back, green eyes wide. “I’m married.” Two words, one sentence. Two words binding me forever.

He nods slowly, tensing his shoulders. “You are. You left before the toast.” His eyes flicker in the darkness. “I—I’m sorry, Alex. I just don’t know what to say.”

I muster a smile, shaking my head. The effort is enough for a lifetime. “Sometimes it’s better not to have any words at all.” I’d know. I can’t find the words. For some reason, my brain still refuses to unscramble the random words I read on the leather. If I don’t admit it, it can’t be true.

I don’t feel words. I feel emotions. Emotions strong and fierce, piercing and jarring. Turmoil and guilt, defeat and loneliness. A hurricane stirs inside me. Voices and thoughts and moments I shared with him mingle until they become something leaving me so torn and lost that, for a brief moment, I don’t know where I am. Who I am. What I’ve lost.

“I’m—Odin’s my husband... I—” I struggle to form coherent sentences, leaning against the wall with my hands on my face. The coldness of the marble feels nice against my sweating back. “Does he know I’m... here?”

“No. No, he doesn’t.” I can see how shocked Lucas is too, looking everywhere to make sure no one’s coming down the hall. He opens and closes his mouth just like a fish, battling to come up with something to say, words to assuage my ache. He finds none.

Suddenly, the overpowering feeling of hopelessness makes my knees tremble. I shiver, wondering what to do. For once, I don’t have a plan to get me out of the mess I got myself into. “What—what do I do now?”

All my expectations from when I was little of my wedding night come crashing, their weight pressing against my chest. This is not what I expected. I thought my marriage would be done under my father’s rule. They’d still be alive, and I’d still be the heiress to the throne. Now, an orphan queen, I married in a split decision to appease the masses and the council, and I feel like a lost child all over again. The long wedding dress makes me childish, and as I look at Lucas I go back to the years where we’d hide from father after doing something forbidden.

He twiddles his thumbs, processing, planning, protecting me. “You’re going to go back and pretend you’re okay,” he says slowly. “And hell, Alex, I know you aren’t, but you’re strong. I know you are. And we have to shut the council up for a while. You’ll remember you’re not alone. You have me and Odin, and we’ll find him. We will. You have to...” He stops, shaking his head and avoiding my gaze. The thought pains him almost as much as it pains me. “You’ll have to go back and be the queen they need to see.”

I stiffen my back, crossing my arms. I have to pretend once again. The thought itself is excruciating, but it’s something I must do. With something to do, an order when I once craved being free, I finally feel better.

We’ll find him.

I’ll find my way back to Logan, I promise myself. Not because I want to, but because I need to. For his family, for his friends. For the little girl who will die tonight when I give myself to Odin.

Somehow, my voice carries strong when I couldn’t be weaker. “Go find Logan’s family.

Tell them what happened. I’ll find a way to speak to Odin.” I steady a hand against the wall, an effort to keep me upright. “I want every damn guard in that fucking party to go outside and check for anything suspicious.”

I take a step forward, my heels clashing against the marble floor. The memory comes back with ferocious hunger. It claws at my stomach. I shut my eyes for a second, replaying the words.

I remember every single feeling and sensation. How he asked me to leave. He needed to. Just like I needed to keep him here, he needed to remain far away. To have a chance at flickering happiness. I had the chance with Odin, just before Logan left. Now, I’m not sure.

I gave him an order. An order with the power to be his death sentence. It was. The pain is strong, searing. I forbade him to leave. Because I was selfish.

Because I couldn’t see the future, even when Bridgit’s words were the warning I needed.

I locked him in this castle.

It’s my fault he’s gone.

Gone, because I refuse to believe something worse. Gone, because if he died, I’d surely feel it. A part of me being tugged away. I would feel it.

I can’t allow myself to think I had something to do with his death.

My vision blurs as I walk down the hallways, the stupid dress trailing behind me. I had my eyes on Odin and Lucas the whole evening while they took my Logan away.

Why would they take a commoner, though? My thoughts spin and my heels clash. A simple friend of the crown among many others. Why would the brides pick him if they didn’t know about us?

Unless they did. Aunt knew. Her soldiers mingled with the brides on the battlefield. Inside the castle. I run faster.

I turn a corner, breathing in and out trying to stop the tears. I feel paranoid and scared and now more than ever, I need Odin’s words and reassurance. As if reading my thoughts, I crash against something hard, and when I’m about to fall backward, he grabs my arm, pulling me straight.

His concern bathes me. “Alex? What—what happened? Are you okay?” His eyes glimmer with concealed angst, deep lines on his forehead. He grabs my shoulders softly, touching my cheek once. I bite my lip.

I’m okay. But he isn’t.

I shake my head, trying to bring forth a clearer sense. His face morphs behind my unshed tears. “I—yes. I’m—I’m okay. Are the guests—”

He stops me, clicking his tongue. “The wedding is over. I told them we had to leave for our honeymoon in a few hours to get them going. Is Lucas okay?”

I shiver, my stomach dropping. Lucas is fine. The other half of me, the half of me they took, I don’t know. I wish I didn’t have to waste my time speaking. I want him to know all the details just by my touch. Every second is necessary, important, elemental.

“Yes. I don’t—the brides. The thing they said about our wedding. They... they did it, Odin.” I gulp.

His hand on my shoulder squeezes harder, something to keep me grounded. “But you’re safe. And so is Lucas. I’m here and—” I place a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Logan is missing.” The words leave my mouth in a rush, floating in the air between us.

He stops, blinking at me. He sighs slowly, running a hand down his face. When he speaks, it is with such apathy guilt pierces me through all over again. “How did you find out?”

“A note.”

He pulls me in, embracing me. His arms once were able to pull me together, collect the pieces and glue them back. What if he never does it again? Will I feel forever as incomplete?

His heart hammers against his shirt, and I waste no time wrapping my arms around his waist. He smells familiar, and I feel myself in the eye of the storm with him here. As long as he’s here he can be the perfect distraction, an anchor to keep me here, safe. Alive.

He mumbles in my hair. “I’m sorry, Alexandra. I didn’t know.”

I look up at him, guilt churning at my insides. As much as I wish I could blame him, I know I can’t. I’m the only one to blame. “It’s not your fault and I—we’ll deal with that in the morning I just...” His green eyes bore into mine. Anger chases the fear out of my system effectively. Rashly, I decide to change course. “You know? You’re my husband now.”

His mouth twitches, his eyes widening slightly before gaining back his composure. It is hard assessing my emotions. He makes an effort to mold into my ever-changing moods. “I get it if you don’t—I mean, it’s okay to let the formalities go for tonight. Things must be on your mind right now. I get it.”

I shake my head, pulling away. Here, he makes me feel nothing and everything at all. It’s like we’re in a bubble and nothing can touch me. There’s nothing wrong as long as he’s here. I try to close off my mind to Logan. As much as it hurts, Odin deserves my attention. He’s been nothing but attentive to me.

I’m aware this is nothing more than a flailing, desperate attempt to distract myself from delving deep into my pain, but I’ll take it.

The promise I made myself repeats in my brain. I’ll allow my heart to love this man. I don’t know how close I was before. Loving someone as much or even more than I loved Logan seems impossible, far away. But it seems to me tonight might lead me the closest I’ve ever been to that point.

“No.” I take his hand, playing with his fingers. “Tonight’s about us. Yes,”—my voice shakes. I push on. —"he’s gone. But you are mine now, and I’m yours.” My pulse heightens, my cheeks redden. “I want to be with you in every possible way.”

I pull him the other direction, back to my chambers. He groans behind me. “What does that mean?”

Barely do I have time to think about the meaning myself. All I know is I need him close. His warmth, his smell, his touch. Him. To keep me from drowning, from feeling the pain pulling my insides.

I stop. He clashes onto me with a smack. Carefully I turn around. I lean on my tiptoes, caressing his face. I need this. I need the pain killers he gives me, and I need them now. “I need a distraction, Odin. And I want you.”

He doesn’t need further explanation. His lips crash onto mine, my feet swaying as he picks me up the floor, wrapping my legs around his hips. I giggle onto the kiss, my insides warming up.

Anger clouds my head, makes me reckless. Stupid. Foolish. Nothing new.

“Is this fun to you?” he asks, breaking our kiss, breath fanning on my face. He takes the dress’ tail in his fists, laying it on my lap to stop himself from stepping over it.

“No.” I peck his lips, messing with his hair. “I giggle when I’m nervous.”

My mind on overdrive, the seconds he takes to get to my chambers—ours, now—seem endless. His lips on mine, he doesn’t miss a step, unlocking the door and closing it with his boot, pushing me against the solid wood.

Air leaves my lungs, my heartbeat loud in my ears, my fingertips pounding, my chest exploding. Millions of nerves wake up all over my body as he kisses my collarbone, goosebumps on my skin.

“We can... wait if you”—I kiss him again, hunger overpowering me—“want to,” he finishes.

“Are you scared?” It comes out in a high pitch as I blow off air, messing with a few strands of my hair disheveled by him.

His green eyes darken. “No. I—I want this to be your choice.”

All serious now. “But it is. You’re my first choice, Odin.” Somewhere in my disconnected mind the thought echoes. I mean it.

I think.

It works for him. He grabs my back as he leads us towards the bed. Laying me softly, my hands shake as I grab his tie, pulling him to me while I scoot backward. He follows my command, my legs wrapped around him, our lips tangled as he takes my heels off.

I mumble clumsily, trying to undo the buttons of his shirt. My mind swims with adrenaline and poor wine. He smiles, guiding my fingers until he throws the shirt away, taking my hand and unbuttoning my dress with the same clumsiness. I struggle to let the fabric loose, slipping my nightgown’s sleeves under my arms and kicking it off the bed with my foot. I stop, staring at Odin while our breathings go crazy. My stomach heaves, jumping excitedly. My throat burns and my hands feel numb.

The same numbness spreading over my system.

He hovers above me, smiling softly at my figure. My undergarments are all covering my body now. He can see my bare stomach, the scar there. I trail his body with hungry eyes, from his toned chest to sculpted arms, all the way to the scar he showed me the first day we met.

I pucker my lips, shaking my head. “Your pants are still on, Abernarthy.”

He chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he undoes his belt, my mind going miles per hour.

It’s happening.

He stands up, shaking them off, leaving them in a puddle around his feet. He holds something up on his fingers for me to see.

“What—what is that?”

“What does it look like?” he asks, coming back to me, finding the perfect spot between my legs. I sit up, hands on his shoulders.

Tipsiness makes me slow to answer. I scowl at the metallic square. “A... condom?”

He smiles ruefully, color returning to his neck and ears. “It’s your choice. I’m not the council. I won’t pressure you into having a baby.”

I could cry right then and there. I smile instead. Right now, I don’t need to think. I appreciate his choice, the option he gifted me. I make the choice absentmindedly. “Nice of you. I—let’s try with it tonight and then... we’ll... figure it after.”

He nods, eyes glinting, arms snaking from my hips to my upper back, undoing my bra.

Stars explode in my vision, my cheeks burn. He throws it with a flick of his wrist, eyes trailing my body before he pushes me down softly.

I raise my hips to his, earning a moan from him, his fingers sliding off my panties. My insides scream at the sudden cold air. His weight over me, his lips go back to my neck.

My breath hitches as I push myself to him, the only barrier between us being his underwear. My mind goes numb as he fondles my breasts, and there’s not a moment in my life I’ve felt more alive and complete.

“Odin,” I murmur to his ear, wrapping an arm loosely around his neck. He leans his head on the crook on my neck as I rock my hips against his. My stomach turns to knots.

“Jesus, Alexandra, you’re killing me.” His voice is gruff, his green eyes darker than I’ve ever seen before. He lowers his mouth to the valley between my breasts, my lungs incapable of getting air. He touches the scar softly, raising his head to meet my eyes. “You’re— my God, you’re stunning.”

I giggle softly. “Stop making me wait.”

He nods once, falling back to my lips. I feel his arms go between us, his legs moving as he struggles with his underwear. Once he’s steady, unmoving above me, I can tell he’s nervous.

“You’re okay?” I ask him, kissing his forehead.

“I don’t want to hurt you. This might hurt, from what I’ve heard.” I smile. “You won’t hurt me.”

He pants. “You tell me if I need to stop, okay?”

I gulp. “Okay.”

We go back to kissing, the seconds stretching forever, before I feel a burn as he pushes himself inside me. I gasp, surprised at the feeling, digging my nails on his arms. He looks to me for direction. I nod. “Just... go slowly,” I groan.

It’s an odd feeling. Something I can’t describe. The slow burn I feel with him on top reminds me I’m alive and he’s here, with me. I will never experience something else quite like this. It’s exquisite and special and unique. It fills me up, something I never knew I needed.

I never thought I’d need him like this.

*****

My mind starts to work again slowly, replaying the images from the wedding night, the letter from Bridgit. Lucas’ wedding. Odin.

For a moment, I’m scared of opening my eyes. What if everything was just a dream and nothing happened? What if my parents are still alive and all I have to worry about is court life and etiquette lessons?

What if Logan is still here?

I don’t know if that’d be better or worse.

My thoughts wander for a moment before the weight beside me shifts. It breaks any haunting dream and longing memory. I let a low sigh of confused relief, his arm wrapping around my torso. I blink at the ceiling, enjoying the familiar scent emanating from him combined with sweat and the smell of something sultry, something I can’t quite pinpoint.

My numb legs come back to life and I shift so I lay my weight next to his.

He sleeps peacefully, his hair plastered to his forehead, the normal lines of stress gone from between his brows. I raise my hand, tracing his hairline with my fingertips, his breath fanning my lips.

I don’t know how to feel. My emotions are oversaturated. I’m worn and confused but somehow, I feel whole again. The closest I’ve been to happiness since father left.

Don’t kid yourself, Alex. This isn’t long-lasting and you know it.

His eyes open slowly as I draw my hand back, pulling up the duvet sheets to cover my chest. It’s still early; the sun isn’t peeking through, making the usual line on the floor. Of course, with the black curtains, it gives the room a sense of privacy, like time doesn’t move when you’re in inside it.

“Good morning,” I whisper, laying my head on my hand.

He smiles lazily, taking my other hand in his, shifting me so I lay next to him, skin to skin. He touches my head softly, so I lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Good morning.” His voice, husky and low, sends shivers down my spine as I bite my lip, suppressing a giggle at my train of thoughts. “Are you okay?” is what he says next, which surprises me.

I pull away, resting my chin on his chest. “Shouldn’t I be?”

He smirks softly, running his fingers through my disheveled hair. “I meant, did I hurt you last night?”

My cheeks burn as I move my legs a bit. Soreness, mostly, but an exquisite feeling at the

touch of the sheets to my bare skin. “The usual. It’s a bit sore and I...” I raise the sheets, finding the rumor of Greece truthful. “There’s blood on the sheets,” I admit, laying my head back so he can’t see my guilt.

He sits up and I mimic his movements, perching his head on his hand. “Nothing to be ashamed of, love.”

I try to force a smile of my own as he caresses my cheek with his thumb. “I—I’m sorry for leaving you alone for the toast,” I say. “I just needed some air to breathe.”

Nodding, it takes all of me to ignore the somber expression flashing across his features.

“It’s okay. The fact that they...” he trails off, laying down next to me, staring at the ceiling.

“The fact that they infiltrated the castle right under our noses is baffling.”

I shrug. “They told us they were strong, Odin, stronger than we give them credit for. Duncan’s right. It’s a matter of time before they try something else. I don’t know why they’re holding back.”

“Don’t do that,” he says, covering his eyes with his forearm. “I know you need to talk about what happened. I don’t want you to drown yourself in quiet sorrow.” My heart rises to my throat. He looks at me. “You know you can trust me, right? I understand, Alexandra.”

The last time we spoke about trust I was alone in his room; my parents had just gone and I was scared of confronting the truth. What an improvement.

“Understand what?” I ask, but I know exactly what he means.

I see his eyes looking in me, searching for something. I raised my mask long before he started prodding. “The situation where we are in isn’t common. You were practically forced to marry me. I’d understand—I understand you still have feelings for him, whatever they might be.”

Guilt pushes at my lungs. I go back to my position with my cheek to his chest, tracing circles on his stomach. I can’t bear to look at his face. “I wasn’t forced to marry you. Situations weren’t the best, that’s true, but I chose you, Odin. You’re a good man, and I know without you I wouldn’t have been able to get through the funeral or the coronation or the council. You make me strong.”

“You chose me,” he echoes back as if he can’t quite believe it himself.

I smile. He traces my spine with his fingertips. I trace patterns on his chest. “I’m mourning for a friend. The idea of something that could’ve been. Nostalgia over a girl I no longer am, over my childhood.”

He hums. “But you loved him.”

I shut my eyes, begging the image of him not to come crashing back, destroy the walls

I’ve built. “I did.” I swallow. “Maybe part of me always will. But whatever I felt for him; it is totally different from what I feel for you. He... he never understood what I had to go through. Hell, he was happy. He had a life full of choices to make and I was stuck in the middle. Some of my anger towards this life bled to him. I could tell I dimmed his happiness. We weren’t good for each other.”

I don’t think of the words, they just spill out, something with meaning, words I truly feel. The truth astonishes me.

Maybe I love him still, part of me says, it is why I’ll find him, no matter what it takes.

But you can love a friend, right?

Me being with him has long since become a useless impossibility. It wore me out just by wishing on it.

Odin doesn’t speak. I allow my voice to drop. I need to speak the truth into existence. I can’t afford to forgive myself, my selfishness. And maybe Odin won’t, either. But the words beg to leave my throat. “He wanted to leave. Right after the coronation, he told me he’d leave. He saw no purpose on remaining in the castle. I knew we no longer could be together because I knew it was you whom I’d end up marrying.”

He is no stranger to my behavior. “Did you ask him to stay?” he asks slowly.

I close my eyes, hating myself for a moment. “I gave him the order to stay.”

Odin sighs, hand stopping on my lower back. “Alex...” It’s not judgmental or skeptical. It’s not lacking emotions like I’d rather want it to. It’s my name full of hurt and burn.

It cracks my walls with the force of a hammer. “I’m hurting you over this, aren’t I?”

He takes a moment to answer before he pushes me away softly. My heart stops, immediately thinking he’ll choose to push me away, the first smart choice coming from him, when he takes my hand, sitting me on his lap. I giggle at the touch of his hands on my stomach, struggling to pull the duvet sheets higher to cover my breasts.

Like always, he dons an armor to protect me from his feelings. He thinks I’m not strong enough to see him hurt. For all I know, he might be right. “Let’s not talk about it, okay?

I’m—I’m the one who has the better end of the deal. I get to see you and touch you and you have to be an actual queen. You’re human, Alexandra. You’re allowed to think and feel and be selfish. It’s basic human nature.”

I don’t find it in me to believe his words. His lingering tone tells me he doesn’t, either.

“Logan didn’t think so,” I say.

He smiles. My chest swells. “I’m not Logan.”

The sentence leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth. “Greece wasn’t there,” I say instead.

“I didn’t see her, either. Wasn’t she with you right before the wedding?”

I shake my head, crossing my arms. “She told me she’d be, but I don’t know, something must’ve come up on her father’s schedule. Tell me if you get a letter from her.”

He nods swiftly. “Will do.”

“So how was it?” I ask.

He blinks at me. “The wedding?”

“The sex.”

His laughter booms across the room, contagious. “It was every bit worth the wait. Can’t believe I waited that long.”

I nod. My hands on his shoulders, adrenaline makes me dizzy with renewed desire. “I don’t think I’m used to you yet. Greece says the first couple tries are painful.”

His smile turns to concern in a second. “What does it feel like?”

“Uncomfortable at first. It burns a bit. I’m super sore.” I smile. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“I’m glad I got to show you my skills,” he says, winking right after. I almost giggle. Almost.

“You gave me a choice,” I whisper, kissing his jaw. My hands quiver. I will them to remain steady. “Thank you for that.”

Unlike the council and everyone around me, he allowed me to choose what I wanted. If I was ready for a child or not. I must have an heir to secure my place, and soon, but the fact he took his time making sure I was comfortable and safe the moment I’ve been at my most vulnerable warms my heart.

“I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to. Hell, if you don’t want children, I get it.”

I push away Logan’s conversation in the underground tunnels. I don’t need another wound to heal. “I do. I mean, I have to. Just not... not quite now.” He nods, kissing my temple. “Actually, I don’t think I have enough elements to make sure I know how skilled you truly are.”

I make a pause, leaning into him. “Do you mind if we try again?”

It’s not hard deciphering her humor. Aunt Heaven practically glimmers, her green dress matching with her eyeshadow. Even her perfume smells different, more extravagant, and she shines, all smiles.

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, standing up and leaning in, kissing the air next to my cheek. I am not used to her elaborate, fake happiness.

I smile out of reflex, sitting down next to her. “Hi,” is all I muster. I’m not in the mood for charades and fake dispositions, not now. I know her true intentions.

She picks up her cup of tea, taking a sip before arching an eyebrow. “How was the wedding?”

“You were there,” I remind her as a servant leans over my left to pour a new cup of steaming tea. Heaven basks in glory. The wedding was all her scheme, a plot she planned before she came into the castle. But she doesn’t know it was a choice I let her think she made in order to grow strong under her nose. With the wedding, I stripped her husband of rageful allies. With the wedding, I get to keep my country.

Her eyes squint at me with morbid curiosity and undercut distaste. “Right. I mean the wedding night, Alexandra.”

The first thought comes to mind. She has no right to know. It’s something so intimate, something I’m not sure I’ll be able to share with anyone else ever. I blink at her, trying to get my anger under control. How dare she come here thinking she’s my confidant just because mother’s gone?

“That,” I say, “is none of your business.”

Her tongue hits the roof of her mouth. “We need an heir, Alexandra. And quick.”

“I’m married now. I did what the council wanted me to, for once. I need them to let me rest. I don’t want a baby. And, need I remind you: it’s been two days since then. It’s impossible to know if I—”

“You can know if you used protection or not,” she interrupts.

I let out a grunt. “If the only purpose of this talk is to give me basic classes of sex ed, I’ll pass, thanks.”

She smiles again, touching her temple. “The same attitude as Lennon. God bless me.” She takes a deep breath, staring down the tablecloth before picking her head up, eyes piercing mine. “All I’m trying to say is, I’d like to see you pregnant before I...”

She doesn’t finish the sentence. I lean in. There’s something clouding her features. She is joyful but not eager. She’s rather calm for the occasion. A fire desperate to burn damped by a cloth. “Before you?”

Shaking her head, it is as though she’s trying to get rid of some unwanted thought in her mind. She sighs. The crown on her head glimmers with the setting sun. “Before I leave. I can only stay here for so long. James’ got it under control, but a country always needs both monarchs.”

I scoff. “I don’t see why I have to rush,” I tell her. “Mother had me when she was twenty-seven.”

“The situation then is quite different from the current one in Alemiss. You know that. The more of a foothold you have, the harder it’ll be to get you off the throne.” She taps her chin with her bony finger, reminiscing on the years. She barely talks about before.

“I don’t know,” I say, crossing my arms and paying attention to her annoyingly beautiful features as I say the next words. “True, an heir will make me stronger, but not while I’m pregnant. Another country—hell, even the brides—could take advantage of it and use it against me, don’t you think?”

A true queen, her face doesn’t crack, her eyes don’t even move. But my meaning is clear. The words glimmer in the air around us. She hears my subtle accusation, taking it in stride. “Odin will be strong enough for the both of you for those short months.”

“But the preparation I have, the full responsibility relies on me and the duty I have to protect our legacy.” I make a pause, thinking my words through. “I’m not ready to have a child when I still haven’t let go of Lennon or Bliss or...”

She smiles. I wish I could smack her. “Your boy. The commoner. Liam?”

“Logan,” I correct her, gritting my teeth. “How do you know about him?” Of course she knew. She could have his head on her hands. I hate not being able to call her out on it, not yet. I remember Duncan’s advice. I knit my fingers tightly to stop my desires of pulling her blonde hair and making her confess.

If anything happened to Logan though, she’d pay.

Her small shoulders shrug. “Well, Odin’s got a racket since yesterday morning deploying convoys to specific points in different cities and placing missing and reward posters all over the streets. He’s making an effort for a man who was useless for the crown. A man who could cost you your head.”

My feet move without my permission. I find myself standing up. Rage stills my resolve.

“You know nothing about what he means for the crown or for me. Whether Odin’s armies are looking for him or not, that’s none of your business. Do me a favor and step aside, Heaven, this isn’t your calling,” I spit.

She nods, tilting her head like a bird’s, blinking. “Did I hit a nerve?”

I inhale, exhale. Protocol lessons stop me from slurring. “Those things, private things about me or between Odin and I, they’re out of your control and you’re stepping out of line. I don’t need you looking over my shoulder all the time like a damn child.”

“Manners,” she chides.

I raise my middle finger. “Fuck your manners.”

She sighs again, standing up, matching my height. Her dress puffs

as she pushes her chest out. I’ve had enough intimidation. I stand before her as her equal, a stronger queen. “I get it if you’re hurt, if you’re scared...”

Here comes her speech again. I push back the chair, my hunger long forgotten. My heels clank against the marble. I trot furiously towards the exit. I don’t have the time to listen to her.

“I know you can’t tolerate any more losses. But remember!” she yells after me. “The more you wear your sorrow, the stronger it’ll make you.”

I close the door behind me with a slam. She said those exact words before when mom and dad went away. She didn’t cry then. How could she not? Am I just too weak?

No, she’s insensible.

I walk fast through the hallways, my head pounding and my chest heaving. I need her to leave, as quick as she can. If I could, I’d get her exiled. It’s added pressure. Useless pressure I don’t need.

She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

My room seems so far away when all I want to do is jump in bed and scream. Scream because of Aunt’s ulterior motives and the pressure that’s still on me, no matter how much the council takes from me.

They still want more. They will always want more. I should get used to it, but how can I?

I doubt anyone can.

I open the door to my room after what seems like ages, pushing against the heavy wood. Except, the door has never been heavy before, always sliding easily with just a push. I suppress a gasp when I find what’s blocking the door.

Or rather, who.

Falling to my knees, I cup her head on my lap, checking for a pulse. “Are you okay? Liliana, are you alright?” My hands move all around her, frantic. I’m not sure what to do.

She rolls over, allowing me to come inside by crawling out of the way, closing the door behind us. There’s no blood, which leads me to believe whatever happened can be dealt with in private. Her eyes, green and wide, stare at me, looking at my movements. She shivers.

“Did someone do this to you?” I ask her.

Just when I think I’ll get no reply, she stifles a sob, sitting up, rocking back and forth, hands on her knees. “Your—Your Majesty,” she fumbles, her chin shaking.

I place a hand on her shoulder. Her worn uniform is rough under my fingertips. Nothing can harm her now that I’m here. “Call me Alex,” I tell her. “Was it a guard? Did someone—”

She shakes her head slowly, closing her eyes in a pained expression. I wait, the doubt eating my insides. “Your Majesty... a guard, a rebel—came into your room.”

My face remains stern. My fingers brush the hair off her face to give me something to do, but my stomach drops. I pray Odin doesn’t feel the urge to see me at this very moment.

“Is that so?” After losing Logan, her news is like talking about an ant infestation.

Nodding, her eyes find mine for the first time since I found her. “They—they weren’t here to harm, My Queen. They would’ve done you no harm.”

“Then what were they here for, Liliana?” I snap. She shakes her head, her eyes welling up. I struggle to lower my voice to appear tranquil. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, My Queen, I let them in because they—they visited Logan’s chambers and came to yours to make sure I—”

The reality stares right at my face. It’s so obvious I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. She looks scared, fragile, alone. And I understand.

It makes sense, the dots slowly connecting in my splintering mind.

“You let them in,” I say slowly, echoing her words. “Because you’re one of them?”

She throws herself over me, hugging me while her cheek rests on my shoulders. She weeps shameful tears, staining my dress. I don’t care. Shock freezes me in place. I can’t move.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty—they promised me they wouldn’t hurt you when I joined. They promised, and they—she’s loyal to her word.”

“She?” I ask, caressing her hair. Liliana’s older than me, but now the roles could be reversed. I could be her older sister, comforting her. It’s almost as if my queen status is forgotten for a second. The same position I acquired with father, the protector, the crutch, replicated again. I sigh. “Bridgit?”

She nods, her cheek going up and down my collarbone.

I take a deep breath, stringing the words in my mind. “You are part of the brides. You are a bride.” I whisper. Denly was right. Of course he was. I knew there had to be personnel involved with the brides. I just never thought it’d be her. “How long since?”

She pulls away, looking at my face before running a hand down her cheeks. Her eyes are red-shot, puffy. Dark eyeliner traces the paths of her tears. Standing up, she lends me a hand. I take it, walking to the bed and sitting down, patting the space next to me. She sits slowly, gingerly. “Ten years, Your Majesty.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

I nod, processing, calibrating, taunting. “May—may I ask why?

Why did you join?” Everyone has a motive. A small one, like hating men, or a big one, like being sold or raped.

The anger flooding my veins in Heaven’s room is licked by empathy and caution.

She takes a deep breath, her eyes scanning the room, refusing to remain on my face. “I was a product of rape,” she says, fidgeting with her black apron. “Mom didn’t choose to abort me because well... she was scared of the penalty. My father sold me when I was fourteen to a man. He owned a cabaret, forced me to please men so he’d get the money. One night I realized I couldn’t live like it any longer. I was being beaten and used and men got too aggressive. I’d get drugged, waking up not knowing how many men had slept with me for how much gold.” She shuts her eyes, willing the thought away. Shudders ripple my body.

I blink at her, my heart thrumming in my throat. “I escaped one night. A riot occurred just outside the cabaret and I knew it was my shot. I ran for God knows how long, no clothes on my back or food. I could’ve perished if it hadn’t been for your late King.”

My voice catches in my throat. “Le—Lennon?”

She nods, quick eyes squinting in my direction. Apologizing for the pain her story awakens in me. “I wandered the forest alone for a couple of days. Fed on what I could find. I fell asleep one day on the roadside, and I woke up when I heard horses. It was the king’s vehicle. He was to give a speech in a nearby city and I happened to stumble upon him. I thought his men would kill me—I had run from my owner. But he stopped the vehicle, talked to me. Asked me what had happened. I told him everything and he...” She grips her chest, remembering the moment. “He said he’d help me. He offered me a job here. Protection. Safety. The brides contacted me later when mother found out where I was. She—she was—or is, I wouldn’t know, a bride, too.”

I nod, archiving her story. Another perspective I didn’t see. Another ally. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Her hands shake on her lap. “Will you send me to the dungeons, Your Majesty?” Her voice sounds young, innocent. I shake my head.

I make a choice for her, narrowing my eyes to make sure she understands. “No one must know about this. You have the right to be... part of them. Due to your past. I understand. I’ll pay blind eye this time but I... I need to know. What were they here for, exactly?”

She shrugs, looking sorry. “I wouldn’t know, My Lady, I just follow orders.”

Even in the Brides, she still is treated like a maid.

“Do you think it’s possible for you to send a message to your superiors? I’d—” I think about father and Odin. Lucas and Logan. I’m not in danger, and even if I were, I don’t want to threaten the brides. I’m letting one of them go. I’d never kill Liliana. We’re even now. “I’d like another meeting with your leader,” I say. “Bridgit Glasser. More privately this time.”

Just the two of us. So she can tell me what she did. Where Logan is. So I can kill her on the spot.

She nods sharply, standing up in practiced manners. Her smile returns and her chest puffs as she moves towards the door. “I’ll see what I can do, Your Majesty. I’ll be forever grateful.”

She closes the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I twist the possibilities in my mind, playing and changing them. I need to know where Logan is. If he’s alright or not. Liliana is my only way. For now.

If good deeds come back eventually, I hope dad’s good heart and my poor attempt at saving a child’s life is enough.

I hope I’m able to get Logan back.

_________

chapter one! i loved this one. let me know what you think/ what team are you in? i'd love to know!

thank you so much for reading!

-goldenmel